


Kitchen Counter Confessionals

by combefemme



Series: Something Like Family [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combefemme/pseuds/combefemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac is learning French, Stiles swears at video games, and Derek's pack may be better at keeping secrets than he realized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitchen Counter Confessionals

The first thing Derek sees when he walks through his front door is three teenagers sitting in his living room playing the Xbox he'd gotten Isaac for his birthday. None of them bother to look up as he makes his way into the kitchen or when he comes back again with a beer. 

Leaning in the doorway, he takes in the scene before him. Isaac and Stiles are sitting on the floor, legs outstretched and game controllers in hand, staring intently at the TV. Lydia is sitting cross-legged on the couch behind them, text book open in her lap.

Maybe surprisingly, but Lydia isn't the one Derek is surprised to see here. She's actually been around quite a bit in the past few weeks since she agreed to help Isaac get his grades up. Instead it's Stiles' presence that comes as a shock. He and Isaac are friends, Derek supposes, but he's never known them to hang out like this. There's some weird friendship-love-triangle thing going on between the two of them and Scott.

He watches them a moment longer before finally speaking up. “Why is Stiles here?” he asks. Not that he minds. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Scott and Allison are on again,” Stiles answers, still not looking up. Derek just nods because really, that's all the explanation anyone needs on the matter.

Just then Lydia perks up and taps Isaac on the side of the head with her pen. “Are you paying attention?”

“Yes,” he replies, mashing the controls harder than necessary like it makes a difference.

“Conjugate the verb _être_ ,” she orders.

“ _Je suis, tu es, il est, elle est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont, elles sont_ ,” Isaac rhymes off. 

Derek can't help but cringe at his pronunciation. “You're taking French?”

“Yep,” he says.

“Why?” Derek asks.

Isaac shrugs. “Why not?”

Derek considers that for a second. “Fair enough.”

He walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to Lydia, who's busy scribbling something in her notebook, and takes a long pull from his beer. He'll admit he's not entirely sure why he bothers with the stuff. It tastes like piss and it's not like he can feel the affects of it. But he's twenty-two and it just seems like the thing to do.

“Might actually come in handy,” Derek concedes after a moment.

“The French?” Isaac asks. “How come?”

“Lotta the really old werewolf lore is in French,” Stiles supplies.

Derek nods. “One of the oldest legitimate records of hunters is from France.”

“ _La Bête du Gévaudan_ ,” Lydia murmurs and Derek is not at all surprised to hear she has a perfect accent.

“Mhmm,” he replies. “Go back far enough and the Argents are French.”

“ _Argent_ ,” Lydia says.

“Silver,” Isaac responds immediately, as if she was quizzing him on his colours. He stops then and his controller drops to his lap, his video game-induced trance breaking for the first time since Derek got home. “I just got that.”

Stiles takes Isaac's momentary reverie to line up a perfect headshot. Isaac curses and refocuses. Stiles just snickers.

Lydia rolls her eyes.

“I'm getting a drink,” she says and stands, stepping around the boys and in front of the TV (“Hey!”) and into the kitchen.

Derek leans over to take a look at the book Lydia has left open on the cushion next to him. Verb conjugations. _Passé composé_. Derek knows some French, enough to get the jist of what the book is saying, but he suddenly feels extremely grateful for Lydia. Isaac is not doing well in school and he definitely needs the help, but Derek is a terrible teacher. He'd actually considered hiring him a tutor before Lydia volunteered.

Isaac is the only person Derek has met since coming back to Beacon Hills who has been unwaveringly loyal and Derek will do a lot for him. He'd gone through legal channels to be named Isaac's legal guardian; had rented this apartment so Isaac doesn't have to live in his family's burnt out house in the woods or some dingy abandoned subway station; he turns up to all of Isaac's lacrosse games and sits in the stands with Lydia and Mrs McCall and sometimes the Sheriff if he isn't working; he's even teaching him to drive in the Camaro.

Derek imagines this is what having a little brother feels like and wonders if Laura felt the same sense of responsibility for him that he feels for Isaac.

Lydia comes back into the room then, reclaiming her seat on the sofa, two sodas in hand. She presses one against the side of Isaac's neck. He yelps and she grins.

When Isaac lifts his hand to take the can Derek doesn't miss the way their fingers brush or the way Isaac murmurs, “Thanks, babe.”

Lydia freezes and Derek raises his eyebrows but Isaac just sets the Coke down on the carpet next to him, not seeming to have realized the slip. Stiles, for his part, continues screaming obscenities at the screen.

Derek turns to Lydia but she's staring down at her text book again, determinedly not meeting his gaze.

He shouldn't be all that surprised, he figures. Jackson's been gone for months and Isaac and Lydia have been growing closer and closer with each passing day. He had assumed it was just because of the tutoring but now that he thinks about it, he's just as likely to come home to find the two of them side-by-side on the couch watching TV as he is to find them doing homework.

And if Derek (for whom discretion has never been a strong point) and Stiles (who has a habit of speaking before thinking) can keep their extra-curricular activities on the down low, than he's sure Lydia (the smartest person Derek knows) and Isaac (the quietest) can certainly manage it.

XxXx

A few hours later, after Stiles and Lydia have gone home, Derek stands at the stove browning a pound of ground beef for dinner when Isaac comes into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge.

“So,” Derek says as Isaac cracks open a bottle of water and leans back against the counter. Derek only takes a second to appreciate the ease with which Isaac watches him expectantly. A few months ago and a similar situation would have made Isaac's pulse jump, fearing he was in some kind of trouble. “What's going on with you and Lydia?”

Here his pulse does jump.

“W-What?” Isaac stammers. “Nothing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Derek asks, side-eyeing him at the obvious lie. “You called her 'babe' earlier.”

For a second Isaac looks like he's going to argue but then he visibly deflates. “I did?”

“Yeah,” he says with a smirk and asks again, “What's going on with you and Lydia?”

“What's going on with you and Stiles?” Isaac immediately counters.

Derek stops his stirring and turns to face Isaac. He doesn't know what his face must look like, but it's enough to make Isaac swallow.

Derek sighs and decides there's no point trying to deny it. “How...?”

Isaac shrugs. “We live together, Derek. And you're not as discreet as you think. I've noticed things.”

Derek turns back to the stove and stirs the meat again before it can burn.

“I don't think anyone else knows,” Isaac tells him. “If it helps.”

Derek nods. “Keep it that way.”

Isaac's smiling at him now. “Yes, sir,” he says with a mock-salute. Derek's eye roll only garners him a larger grin.

“Either get outta here or help me with dinner,” Derek says but he's smirking now, too. Isaac's smile never falters as he moves to set the table.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I was having Isaac/Lydia feels and figured I would throw in some Sterek for good measure.
> 
> Somehow it ended up being about Derek and Isaac, though. Whatever. I have no complaints.
> 
> Again, feel free to contact me on tumblr >> carryonmywaywardtardis.tumblr.com


End file.
